


Year Three

by Satanismywaifu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Lots of sad kisses, M/M, Pre-Established Relationship, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanismywaifu/pseuds/Satanismywaifu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its been three years since the apocalypse first started, three years of hell. There once was a gang of thirteen, thirteen who looked out for eachother and tried to keep eachother alive but as the apocalypse raged on, more and more people lost their lives, their humanity to the clutches of the undead. Year three: Theres only two survivors, Jean and Marco. To Jean, Marco is the sole reason as to why living in this hell is worth it, so what will jean do when he discovers a stumble in marco's step and a bite on his side?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Year Three

**Author's Note:**

> The layout may be a bit off because this is my first time posting on ao3, so dont hate me. this fic came to me while i was listening to crappy sad music.

The two boys were walking through the ruins, looking for something salvable, or something to eat. Just walking. Stepping on broken pieces of glass with their tattered boots, looking at the grey, sickly sky, there wasn’t much else to do in this burned out hole that once was a lively city. It was year three of the apocalypse. Year three since the dead woke up again with hollowed eyes, rotten flesh and an unconceivable hunger for the living. Jean and Marco had survived three years of hell, three years watching their best friends die screaming as they got torn apart by the dirty, clumsy hands of the undead. Three painful years of tears, anger and blood. They had started with a group of thirteen, now there were two. Both boys still wore the brown jacket, as to honor their dead friends, the jackets; bloodied and tattered almost served no point now that everyone who had once worn them was long dead. It was Levi’s idea, when the apocalypse first started. Back then, no one took the zombies seriously, the word “zombie” was almost a joke to most. There were only a select few people who valued their lives, and Levi happened to be one of them. He was initially the leader of the group, it made obvious sense for him to assume that title, he was the one who insisted on everyone wearing the jackets and he was the one who kept everyone together as long as he could. In the beginning, some wore the jackets just so that Levi would be satisfied, like Eren, or as an ironic joke like Connie and Sasha. But then as the apocalypse finally started feeling like an apocalypse. The thirteen wore them to prove they were still human, to prove that they were a part of something worth living for, and to prove that they were alive. One by one, the thirteen fell. Connie was first, then Armin, then Eren, then Ymir,.  
Jean shook his head at remembering all of his dead friends. He couldn’t deal with it now, especially not now. Marco had just stumbled slightly, pulling Jean from his memories and alerted him to the loud crunching noise as Marco cracked an old window frame, as if he forgot how to place his feet in front of the other.  
“Marco.. Are you alright?”  
Marco tilted his head and smiled at the other boy. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”  
“I-I don’t know.. Never mind” Jean grabbed Marco’s hand and pulled to force him to walk quicker. Just incase the crunching noise had alerted any unwanted “pests” As Jean pulled the other boy along he heard something, A wince. A miniscule muffled whine, it was almost not there, if Jean’s senses weren’t heightened (due to living through three years of a zombie apocalypse) he was sure he wouldn’t have heard it.  
“Marco?”  
“I-im fine.. Lets keep moving”  
There a hint of uncertainty in his voice, something was wrong. Marco had been acting strange since last night. Jean didn’t want to ask, he felt as if he was just being paranoid and didn’t want Marco to laugh and or worry about his mental health. Jean couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was wrong, it couldn’t be that... No Jean refused to even think that that was wrong with Marco. “Are you sure you’re alright?”  
“Yes,” Marco winced again, but this time louder, his face contorting in a pained look  
“No..” Jean suddenly realized, the signs were all there. Marco was weak and tired, he kept swearing he wasn’t hungry even though he hadn’t eaten in two days. “No, no Marco..P-please”  
“Jean! Im fine, okay!? I.. just have to rest for a while.. That’s all” by the end of his sentence, Marco’s words were drawn out and filled of pauses between the letters. He walked closer to the once red bricked wall of an old building, sliding down the burned texture until he hit the ground. Jean immediately followed suit, he fell to his knees before Marco’s slumped figure. “No this can’t be happening.. This cant.” Jean refused to acknowledge the obvious signs from Marco throughout the day, he pretended that they were nothing but products of his paranoid imagination but now they all seemed so real. A little part of Jean was still trying to tell him that Marco was fine but he knew that Marco was deffinately not fine.  
“M-Marco. Please..” Jean could not bring himself to finish that sentence.  
In response to Jean’s unasked question Marco sheepishly removed his grey t-shirt with a downcast gaze, revealing to Jean what he had tried so hard to hide from him. Bloody gauze. There was gauze wrapped around Marco’s midsection and an obvious wound lying hidden beneath it.  
Jean blinked as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. He refused to process what he was looking directly at, he did not want to acknowledge the undeniable fact that lay in front of his eyes. He REFUSED to accept the cold, cold truth to his unasked question. But the little voice of reason in his head knew the truth; it knew that Marco had been bitten.  
Tears welled up in his eyes, under any other circumstance Jean would blink them away and cover his quivering lip with a smile but Jean couldn’t care less about his “reputation” right now.  
“W-why did you..When d-did you..”  
Marco winced and closed his eyes momentarily “I didn’t want to tell you until I needed to because I hate seeing you cry,” Marco swallowed heavily, trying to force the words that were difficult to come out of his mouth “I-I got bitten last night.. wh-when I went outside to check on that rattling noise...I knew you said not to go and that you would but I-I just, I-I just wanted to be the one looking for us.. For once. I th-thought I could handle it b-but there was too many.. They grabbed me.. a-and I-I g-got bi-bitten”  
By the end of his story Marco was in tears and choking back sobs. Jean was now on his knees, looking down at the ground, trying to hide his tears. He had a hand lightly put over Marco’s wound, as if he was healing him through some bullshit magic.  
“y-you only have a little while left...” Jean voiced his prominent thought without actually realizing it  
“I-I know..”  
Jean didn’t know what to do know, he looked up at Marco, heavy tears falling from his eyes “i-Im sorry.. Th-this is all my fault”  
“How is this your fault?”  
“I let you go.. I promised Th-that I would protect you.. I-I prom-missed..”  
Marco silenced him by putting his hand on Jean’s cheek, using this thumb to wipe away the steadily falling tears. “Jean please don’t cry... Its not y-your fault” he attempted to sit up but Jean pushed him back before he could hurt himself further. Jean lifted Marco’s head and kissed him. Marco kissed back, pouring all his emotions into that kiss.. Trying to tell Jean that it wasn’t his fault, trying to apologize for being so stupid..Trying to tell him that it would all be okay.  
Jean pulled back, still sobbing “I love you..”  
“L-love you too..” Marco attempted to smile but it was quickly broken by a pained grimace.  
From the condition Marco was in Jean guessed he had about an hour left. He lightly stroked Marco’s face then put his head in his lap. He brushed through Marco’s hair with his fingers. Trying to not think about the future.. Trying to not think about needing to blow Marco’s brains out before he turned. Trying not to think about having to live through this hell alone. He curled Marco’s hair around his fingers, looking down at his slowly breathing face. Jean didn’t know how long he had been spacing out but then Marco’s cough brought him back to the present moment.  
“a-at first I was so afraid.. I was afraid to die.. I-I didn’t want to.. But then realized that maybe there’s something brighter waiting for me..”  
Jean looked down at Marco, trying not to start crying again.  
“We’ve been living in this.. This.. Hell for three years now.. The rest of us are dead, except for us, Jean.. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to die” Marco smiled lightly and closed his heavy eyelids  
Jean pulled him upward so that he was leaning his head on Jean’s shoulder and Jean was hugging Marco’s back to his chest.  
“Maybe I’ll wake up somewhere brighter.. Somewhere sunny..” Marco continued as slow tears fell from his eyes and rolled down his face “maybe there will be dogs there... Or cats.. I miss those”  
Jean hugged Marco tighter and caressed the left side of his face, then going lower to rest over his wound.  
“..Jean”  
“Y-yeah?”  
“c-could you,” Marco paused and looked up at Jean as best as he could in that position “sh-shoot me.. Be-before I turn..”  
Jean’s eyes widened, hearing that woke him up from his trance, reality became very very real once again.. His initial thought was to scream “No” in Marco’s face but he knew that he had to do it. He was the only one who could do it… “d-don’t t-talk about it now please”  
Marco sighed and continued his earlier thought “what if the others are there? Wouldn’t that be amazing? Connie, and Sasha, Eren, Reiner, Armin,M-mika-” Marco tried to continue talking but was overtaken by a violent coughing fit, and Jean shushed him as he tried to force out more names. Marco took a few deep breaths “w-what if they’re waiting for us...”  
Jean didn’t know what to say to that, what if they were waiting for them? Unsure of what to do now, Jean pulled Marco in to a kiss, he tried to memorize everything in that moment. The way Marco’s lips pull into a smile when Jean starts stroking his hair. The way that he breathes, the way he smells, the way his eyes look as they flutter shut. The way that freckles that adorned his nose. This kiss was slow and delicate, filled of love. A good bye kiss.  
Jean pulled away and Marco tried to nuzzle Jean’s neck before he turned forward, looking directly in front of himself. His facial expression turned to a soft smile, he breathed slowly, deep slow breaths. One, two.. And then nothing.  
“Marco..”  
Marco didn’t answer  
“Marco!?”  
The realization hit  
“MARCO!?”  
Jean gently pushed Marco off of him so that he was lying on the ground. Jean straddled him, both hands on either side of Marco’s face, and knees on either side of his body. His eyes wide and mouth gaping open. He tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled pained noise. He wanted to scream at Marco, force his eyes to re-open, jean wanted to yell at Marco for leaving him here like this. But all that he could do was to stare blankly, tears streaming down his face and falling onto Marco’s corpse “M-Marco...” Jean whispered his name quietly and gently stroked His still smiling face. “P-please.. Come back… y-you were the only reason i-it was w-worth it to keep living! d-don’t leave me here.. A-alone”  
Alone  
That word stuck in Jean’s head. He’s alone now. Twelve of the thirteen were dead, dead because of his god damned stupidity. Jean blamed himself for every single one of the thirteen’s deaths, and now Marco was gone. He was the last one. He’s alone now, talking to the corpse of a boy he loved so much..  
Jean couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than cry pathetically and stare at his now dead boyfriend, gently whispering his name over and over, tears flowing down his face. Maybe he was hoping that if he said his name enough there would be some magic bullshit and Marco would come back.  
“it-” Jean heaved and let out a loud sob, as he tried to compose himself enough to speak “It’s selfish to want you to come back... Isn’t it?” Jean said quietly to the corpse  
“You’re probably somewhere better right now.. Like you said.” Jean leaned down and softly kissed his once warm lips. He then carefully positioned Marco’s hand into a fist behind his back. While grabbing Marco’s other stiff hand to position it over his heart, Jean almost didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want to ever forget what Marco’s hands felt like in his own. Jean didn’t know why he did it; it was something the thirteen used to do when their comrades fell. At first the gesture was something of a salute but as more and more people died it became a way of laying them to rest. Jean stood up and walked to Marco’s feet, and repeated the salute back to the corpse. “Y-you’re probably with the others known... With a dog and a cat.. In a field where it’s sunny and bright…” Jean lost the battle of trying to repress tears, “I bet they are wondering what took you so long...”  
Jean wiped away the fallen tears from his face and looked at his hands. He could still feel the sensation of holding Marco’s hand. He opened and closed them, watching the way his hands functioned. He knew what he had to do now. He took the pistol from its holster. And turned it over and over, Just examining its surface, his thumb tracing the curve of the trigger. “I want to go there too.. To that field with the dogs and the sky that isn’t gray..i miss the blue sky... I miss the others... I miss you. I miss you so much.” Jean knelt down once more and touched Marco’s wound, he leaned in to Marco’s ear and whispered his final good bye and with that he got back up and stood a few feet from Marco’s corpse. He brought his shaky arms up to position the gun. The sound of a gunshot rang against the old buildings and Marco’s corpse was spattered in blood, Jean fell to the ground his entire upper jaw and face, resembling nothing more than a bloody cave

“Hey horse face! Marco’s over there with Armin! He’s been asking about you nonstop for like hours!”


End file.
